


Percy Weasley and the Purple Haired Prank

by charlie_weasleys_gf



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, One Shot, Percy Weasley-centric, Post-War, Prank Wars, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27073876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlie_weasleys_gf/pseuds/charlie_weasleys_gf
Summary: Percy is a very important person at the Ministry-he cannot have purple hair. Trouble is, the only way to get rid of it is to find out who cast the spell.Just some light hearted Weasley family time (with pranks, obviously).
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Percy Weasley and the Purple Haired Prank

Percy wearily walked towards his office, his hands full of files to add to the ever growing stack on his desk. He’d hoped to finish early today, but an unfortunate issue with a disconnected fireplace had ruined any hope of that. A witch in Salisbury had been reading her tea leaves and seen she would be receiving an unwelcome visitor. Apparently, decided she could avoid this by attempting to block her floo network on her own—of course, when her mother tried to come over for tea, she’d gotten stuck midway and fallen out of a grate in Edinburgh. The resulting jinxes had left the mother in St Mungo’s and a large amount of paperwork for the Head of the Department of Magical Transportation.

Percy dropped the files onto his desk and sat down, trying to arrange his paperwork neatly—he found it far easier to work when his desk was tidy. It was rare that Percy found himself unwilling to do his work, but today was one of those days that he just wished would end. Typically he would make himself a cup of tea to improve his mood, however after the day’s events, he didn’t particularly feel like looking at tea leaves. He chuckled to himself as he realised the team he sent over were most likely the very unwelcome visitors the witch had seen in her leaves to begin with—not that he set much to store by tea leaves, but he supposed they could occasionally be right.

Leaning back in his chair, Percy opened up his desk drawer and pulled out his favourite quill. He opened the file closest to him and began reading through the report. It was dull work, but at least it was easy—Percy was very used to reading reports by now. He worked his way slowly through the pile and was beginning to feel better about his day when he was suddenly accosted by a haze of purple smoke.

Percy spluttered and reached for his wand, trying to identify the source of the spell, but the smoke disappeared as soon as it came. He looked down at the file he had just opened and saw it simply held a blank sheet of paper. Percy furrowed his brow and gripped his wand tight—he should have noticed the file was suspicious, it was different to the rest and certainly not one he had put on his desk. With his haste to get through all his paperwork, he hadn’t even noticed these differences and fallen straight into some trap.

What trap, however, was the question he could not answer. He felt perfectly normal—not at all as though a hex was at work, though he supposed whatever it was may have some delayed effect. He looked over himself, but did not notice any abnormalities. Deciding this was definitely suspicious, Percy cast a few spells over himself to check for any dangers—none seemed to reveal themselves, however.

Percy began to feel nervous—true, he was rarely the target of nasty tricks, but his involvement in the war had made him a target to certain people. He didn’t want to risk falling victim to some old grudge. Grumbling, Percy pushed his paper aside and decided the best thing to do was to visit Harry—he would most likely still be in his office and as Head of the Auror Department, he was bound to be able to identify whatever was in that file. Percy picked up the file and walked out of his office, towards the elevator.

He wasn’t quite sure if he was imagining things, but he felt he was receiving a few odd looks on the way to Harry’s office. Perhaps that was the spell—something to make him incredibly paranoid. He reached Harry’s office and knocked on the door, which stood half-open.

“Come in,” Harry called from inside the office.

Percy stepped inside and saw Harry sitting at his desk with a pile of paperwork to rival his own. Harry looked as Percy walked in and froze, his eyes wide. After a moment, he burst into laughter.

“Blimey, Perce! What happened to you?” he said through chortles.

Percy stared at him.

“What? What do you mean? What’s happened?” he said, panicking.

This only seemed to make Harry laugh more.

“What is it?’ Percy asked, looking around desperately for some clue as to what Harry found so amusing.

Still laughing, Harry reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a hand mirror. He handed it to Percy, who took it, perplexed. Percy looked into the mirror nervously, not quite prepared to find out what he wasn’t seeing.

“Oh, Merlin,” he groaned as he caught sight of himself—he looked almost entirely normal, except for the fact this his hair was bright purple.

Harry’s laughter grew even louder as Percy thrust the mirror back at him.

“You didn’t know?” Harry asked, regaining control of himself.

“I knew something had happened—I opened a file and some purple smoke came out but I couldn’t figure out what it was. I came here so you could make sure I hadn’t been jinxed,” Percy recounted, annoyed.

“Well, I think we answered that one—blimey, wish I had a camera,” Harry said.

“You will not be taking a photo of this,” Percy said firmly.

“If you can’t figure out a way to undo the spell, I won’t have to—everyone will see it anyway,” Harry said, chuckling.

Percy glared at him.

“I’m sure there’s a simple spell—surely you know how to undo charms like this, it’s a part of Auror training, isn’t it?” Percy asked.

“Of course—why do you think I have a mirror in my office? But whoever this was went to a lot of effort to change your hair—I don’t know if a simple spell would be able to undo it,” Harry mused.

“You’ve got to try it at least—I can’t go around with purple hair!” Percy said.

“Alright, alright,” Harry said, standing up.

He held out his wand and muttered a spell. Percy felt something like a brush going through his hair and looked at Harry hopefully. Harry just shook his head.

“Sorry mate—looks like you’re going to have to try and figure out who did it and get them to remove it,” Harry said, shrugging.

Percy groaned.

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Harry said, “show me the file.”  
  
Percy handed over the file and Harry looked over it casting a few spells as he did. They didn’t seem to reveal anything to him, however.

“Whoever it was covered their tracks well—I can’t figure anything out from this,” Harry said.

“Come on—you’re Harry Potter, the Head of the Auror Department and you can’t get anything?” Percy asked desperately.

“Look, I know how to deal with dark magic but a pranked file? No clue,” Harry said, passing it back to Percy.

Percy took the file and stared at it, hoping it would reveal something to him.

“Look, it was probably just George testing out some new product—aren’t you supposed to be having dinner with him tonight anyway? Just ask him then,” Harry said.

Percy sighed, relieved.

“You’re right, it’s exactly something George would do. There’s no way I’m sticking around here looking like this, though. Can I use your floo?” Percy asked.

“Go ahead,” Harry said, gesturing to it.

Percy reached for some floo powder beside Harry’s fireplace and stepped inside. The last thing he saw before he was pulled towards Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes was Harry watching him from his desk, still laughing.

\---

“GEORGE!” Percy yelled as he climbed out of the fireplace.

“In the kitchen!” George replied.

Percy dusted himself off and made his way to the kitchen of the flat above the joke shop. He stepped inside to see George bent over a cauldron.

“Sorry, just developing a new product,” George said, not looking up, “Are you early?”  
  
“Yeah, I couldn’t really stay at work thanks to you,” Percy said, irritated.

George looked up bemused, and caught sight of Percy’s hair. He seemed to forget about his potion entirely as he burst out laughing, bending over and clutching his stomach. Percy glared at him.

“Yes, yes it’s hilarious, now can you fix it?” Percy asked impatiently.

“Fix it?” George said, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Merlin, please tell me you figured out a way to reverse this before trying it out,” Percy said, paling.

George stared at him quizzically.

“I didn’t do that,” he said slowly.

“Come off it George, I know you did,” Percy sighed.

“I’m being serious! I’ve been in the shop all day!” George protested.

Percy stared at him disbelievingly.

“You didn’t put that file on my desk?”  
  
“A file?” George asked.

“The file that did this!” Percy exclaimed.

“You were attacked by a file?” George asked, looking as though he was trying not to smile.

“I was not attacked—it just had some charm that released smoke and it did this,” Percy said, gesturing to his hair.

“That’s clever,” George said, reaching for a notepad.

“You really didn’t do it?” Percy asked.

“Wish I did—it’s bloody brilliant,” George said, jotting something down on the pad.

“What are you doing?” Percy asked.

“Writing this down—it’s a great idea for the shop,” George said, glancing up.

Percy huffed and crossed his arms.

“Do you have any clue how to undo this?” Percy asked, uncertain, “Surely you have some similar product.”

“We do have some hair changing products but generally you can’t undo them. Usually they wear off after a few hours—or days—depending on the product.”

George continued to write on his notepad as he spoke, apparently unaware of Percy’s panic.

“So you’re saying I just have to wait? What if it takes weeks to disappear?”

“I doubt it would last that long—it would have to be a really strong charm to do that,” George said, dismissively.

“Well, what am I supposed to do for work tomorrow?” Percy asked, frantic, “Or the next day?”

“Wear a hat—or chuck a sickie,” George offered.

“Absolutely not—I have to find out how long this will last,” Percy said, determined.

“Well, the only way to do that will be to find whoever cast it,” George said, turning back to his potion.

Percy stared around desperately—who would have done this? He heard a voice on the stairs and turned around quickly.

“Ron!” he said.

“Yeah?” Ron’s voice called out.

Percy ran towards the door and pulled it open. Ron stumbled back, surprised.

“Ron, where were you today?” Percy asked, pulling him forwards.

“What kind of question is that?” Ron asked as he regained his footing.

Ron was so busy trying to balance on the stairs that it took him a moment to notice Percy’s hair. When he did, he leant forwards clutching the doorframe and howling with laughter.

“Bloody hell, what did you do?” he asked.

“What did _I_ do?” Percy said, indignantly, “I did not do this to myself!”

Ron looked puzzled for a moment before comprehension dawned.  
  
“You think I did it?”

“Well, where were you today?” Percy demanded.

“Here!” Ron said, defensively, “well, except for lunch—I had that with Hermione but—”

“So you _were_ at the Ministry!” Percy cried out, reaching up to tug at his hair, before pulling his hand away furiously.

“Nah, we flooed home for lunch,” Ron said.

Percy dropped his head into his hands.

“How am I supposed to find out who did this?”

Ron shrugged and Percy stomped his foot, infuriated. George raised his eyebrows and looked over at Ron, holding back a smile.

“You didn’t see anyone around?” Ron questioned, looking as though he too was holding back laughter.

“No—I was in my office,” Percy said, trying to think if he passed anyone on his way, “it was in a file.”

Ron walked over to look at George’s potion.

“Wasn’t you?” he asked.

“Nah,” George said, not looking up, “reckon it’s a good idea for the shop though.”

Ron nodded.

Percy groaned and collapsed into a chair at the counter.

“It’ll be alright Perce,” George said, “just settle down for a bit—I’ll finish this and fix us dinner, we’ll figure it out.”  
  
“You’ll help?” Percy asked, relieved.

“Definitely,” George said, “I want to know who came up with this brilliant idea.”

Percy shook his head at him and groaned loudly.

\---

An hour later, the three of them were sitting for dinner—Ron had decided to stay, having heard Hermione would be working late.

“You know what,” Ron said, looking up suddenly, “I reckon this sounds like something Ginny would do.”  
  
George looked thoughtful.

“You’re right—of course she would.”

Percy blinked.

“You really think it was her?” he asked.

“She’s been bored lately, without the Quidditch season,” Ron said.

Percy wasn’t convinced—usually Ginny could be relied on to be more sensible than his brothers. He certainly didn’t think she would do something as ridiculous as dye his hair purple because she was bored.

“But would she do this? To me?”

“Come on, Perce, she’s not twelve anymore—she’s not worried you’ll tell on her to mum,” George joked.

Percy thought about it for a moment.

“But Harry didn’t say anything,” he said.

“You spoke to Harry?” Ron asked.

“I went to him first to see if he could identify the file,” Percy said.

“She may not have told him—he’s terrible at keeping secrets,” Ron suggested.

Percy thought over this.  
  
“Alright, I’ll go over to hers after dinner and ask,” he said, doubtful.

“Or,” George said, a wicked grin on his face, “we could get her back.”  
  
A smile spread across Ron’s face that looked scarily similar to George’s.

“Brilliant,” he said.

Percy did not look as convinced.

“What if she didn’t do it, though?” Percy asked.

George looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Why don’t I ask her” he said.

“What?” Percy asked.

“I’ll floo her—say congratulations,” he explained.

“Okay,” Percy said slowly—at least he could find out if she had been the one to do this to him.

“Look, you and Ron go over there and listen,” George said, pointing to a spot behind the door, “we’ll see if it was her.”

Percy and Ron moved out of sight while George walked to the living room and threw some floo powder into the fireplace.

“Ginny!” they heard him call out,

Percy and Ron waited silently—they could hear George, but none of what Ginny was saying.

“Hey, I just had Percy over—” something cut him off.

“I knew it!” he said, laughing.

There was silence again and Percy and Ron stared at each other—it seemed as though Ginny might really be the culprit.

“You have to tell me how you did it—it’s a great idea for the shop!”  
Percy rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll get credit.”  
  
There was another pause as Ginny spoke.

“He was fuming! Thought I’d done it and couldn’t believe I hadn’t...yep, still purple when he left.”  
  
George finished the call and came into the kitchen, where Percy was waiting, shocked.

“I can’t believe it was actually her!” he said.

“Told you,” said Ron.

“So lads, what’s our plan?” asked George.

Ron grinned at him before shooting a nervous look at Percy, who was watching them hesitantly. George followed his gaze and sighed.

“Come on, Perce—you know you want to get her back,” George said.

“I don’t know—what exactly are you thinking of doing?” Percy asked. “I don’t want to do anything dangerous!”  
  
George slapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Your safety is guaranteed—your dignity, however, may not be if you keep walking around with that purple hairdo,” he said, trying not to laugh.

Percy turned and caught his reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall. His reflection stared back at him, resolute.

“Okay,” he said.

“You’re really in to prank Ginny?” Ron asked.

“She did dye my hair purple,” Percy said.

“Alright!” George said. “Always knew you’d become fun one of these days.”

Percy glared at him.

\---

“You’re sure this will work?” Percy asked Ron and George, nervously peeking out from their hiding spot behind the trees next to Harry and Ginny’s house.

George rolled his eyes at him.  
  
“I’ve been doing this for years—practically since I was born. Do you really have to question that?” he sighed.

“To be fair, there were quite a few failed pranks in your career,” Ron said.

George pushed his shoulder. “Never public ones!” he protested.

“Stop bickering!” Percy said, annoyed. “You do know it’ll work?” Percy asked again.

“‘Course I do Perce—wouldn’t risk our first prank together being a failure,” George said, grinning at him.

“Do you have everything?” he asked.

“Right here,” Ron said, holding out a small vial of potion and handing it to Percy.

“Do you think she’ll notice?” Percy asked.

“She won’t be expecting a retaliation from you—she won’t suspect a thing,” George reassured him.

“Okay. Let’s do it then,” Percy said, pocketing the potion.

George grinned at him

“Alright, Ron—you’re up,” he said.

“Can’t we just arrive together?” Ron asked.  
  
“She’ll be more likely to be suspicious if we all walk in together. It’s a house warming—we’re supposed to be arriving separately,” George told him.

“Alright, alright,” Ron agreed.

He stepped out from behind the trees and walked towards the front door. A moment after he rang the bell it swung open and he was inside.

“You ready, Perce?” George asked.

Percy nodded, not wanting to give away his nerves. He waited a moment, then walked out from the trees and headed towards the house. He rang the bell as Ron had and waited for Ginny to open the door. Nervously, he straightened the hat he had carefully placed to hide his still-purple hair.

Ginny appeared at the door a moment later—her eyes shot to his hat and she smiled slightly. Percy tried to pretend he hadn’t noticed.

“Hello, Perce! Come in, almost everyone is here now,” Ginny said, gesturing for him to come inside.

He stepped around her and looked around the new house—she and Harry had only moved in a week ago and this was the first time they’d had the family over.

“Do you want to take off your hat?” Ginny asked in a sweetly innocent voice.

“No thank you,” Percy said and he walked toward the kitchen before she could protest—he wasn’t going to give her the chance to embarrass him any further.

The rest of the family and a few of Harry and Ginny’s schoolmates were waiting for them in the kitchen. Harry looked up as they entered and, catching sight of Percy’s hat, began to laugh so hard he choked on his drink. Neville slapped his back and Harry surfaced, grinning. Percy felt his face turn red—it seemed he hadn’t fully saved himself from embarrassment. Just as Neville was asking what made Harry laugh, the bell rang again and George joined them in the kitchen a moment later.

The night carried on as expected—George managed to entertain everyone with his newest inventions, Ron chiming in to describe how he assisted, and the family talking louder and louder as the night went on. There was no sign of pranking until halfway through dinner. Percy carefully chose a spot next to Ginny and could hardly focus on eating, he was so nervous. Midway through the meal, Ron reached for a bottle and commented loudly that it was empty. Percy hoped he was the only one who noticed George’s wand disappearing under the table, after having surreptitiously vanished the remnants of the bottle. Ginny, of course, immediately stood up and hurried to the kitchen to get more. Percy knew this was his moment—he whipped the vial out from his pocket, emptied the contents into her soup and had it hidden again by the time Ginny returned. Across the table, George winked at him.

Percy waited nervously as Ginny picked up her spoon and continued to eat her soup. For a moment, nothing happened and then—in a lull of conversation better than any of them could have hoped for—it happened. Ginny turned to Luna to ask her something and instead, the table was stunned by a loud melody.

_“From the marshy bogs of Queerditch_

_Grew a sport so fine and fair.”_

Ginny shut her mouth tightly, eyes wide—everyone stared back, surprised. She turned to look at Harry and opened her mouth again.

_“In which each witch and wizard—”_

Ginny slapped her hand over her mouth—Harry looked at her, concerned. Slowly, Ginny removed her hand.

_“WOULD TAKE FLIGHT THROUGH THE AIR.”_

This line was even louder than the previous—George had said it would be louder the longer the person didn’t speak. Around the table, people began to chuckle—Mrs Weasley was watching them suspiciously, while Luna listened, curious. Ginny glared at them all and opened her mouth to yell at them, but she could not stop the singing.

_“WE SIT AND WATCH IN WONDER_

_AT EACH GAME THE PLAYERS PLAY.”_

Harry was holding back a laugh now and Ginny stared at him, infuriated. She mouthed a question at him, but all they heard was the next line.

_“And dream our team will reign supreme.”_

George let out a bark of laughter and Ginny whipped her head around to look at him, her eyes narrowed. He held up his hands in defence and whatever question Ginny was about to ask was replaced by singing again.

_“Thus we cannot help but say.”_

Ginny turned to look at Ron, who shook his head—he couldn’t help however, glancing at Percy. Ginny followed his stare and whipped her head to look at Percy. Her mouth fell into a perfect O as the chorus rang out.

_“Beat back those Bludgers, boys, and chuck that Quaffle here_

_No team can ever best the best of Puddlemere!_

_You'll catch that Golden Snitch with the easiest of ease_

_Grab your Beater's bat and in no time flat_

_Prove the game is yours to seize!”_

At some point, George had joined in—the sound at the table had grown astronomical, between the singing, the laughter and the shouts of accusation. No one could quite believe Percy had done it, but Ron and George were avidly denying responsibility. Ginny tried every strategy to stop, but soon seemed to realise that the longer she refused to speak, the louder she would sing. After much huffing and several angry glares, she had sung out all five verses of the Puddlemere United Anthem. There was a round of applause as she sang the last line and George pretended to wipe a tear.

“I will kill you,” Ginny said to Percy, as soon as she regained her voice.

“Ginny!” Mrs Weasley cried out.

“Good one, Perce,” George congratulated him, “might have to get you on board for the shop too.”

Mrs Weasley looked aghast. Percy smiled in spite of himself.

“Couldn’t have done it without your help,” Percy said.

“Well, of course,” George agreed.

Ginny looked between them furiously.

“So you were in on it!” she exclaimed.

“Well...maybe,” George conceded.

“If we’re being honest…” Ron began.

“You too?!” Ginny cried.

Ron grinned sheepishly.

The table broke into laughter and congratulations were offered around to the three troublemakers and Percy felt oddly proud. Ginny eventually stopped huffing and even managed to laugh about it. He felt her brush against him as she picked up his plate and he turned to see her grinning at him—he smiled back, glad she seemed to have forgiven him. Turning back to the table, he saw those nearest to him looking concerned. He looked across at George, who appeared to be trying not to laugh.

“Um, Percy?” he looked around at Hermione, sitting beside Ron, who was also concealing laughter, “is your hair purple?”

Percy’s hands reached for his head and, feeling it bare, he looked around at Ginny, who was standing in the doorway, clutching his hat and smiling wickedly.

“I think I might have underestimated you,” Percy said nervously.

“Next time make it the Holyhead Harpies theme,” Ginny said, “and I’ll consider undoing the charm.”


End file.
